Shabbat a time to say - "Thank you!"

Welcome to Daily Bitachon.

We've been discussing Rosh Hashanah and kabbalot, preparing for the High Holidays. Usually, on Fridays, I share a class on Shabbat, but I got so engrossed in the Rosh Hashanah topic that I forgot. Then I realized something: if the Rabbis instituted that we don't blow the Shofar out of respect for Shabbat, how could I cancel my Shabbat class to prepare for Rosh Hashanah? Even though you might be listening to this on Sunday, Hayom Yom Rishon b'Shabbat—we're adding an extra day this week to make sure we fit our Shabbat class in.

Mizmor shir l'yom haShabbat: Tov l'hodot l'Hashem u'lzamer l'shimcha elyon. Shabbat is a day designated to delve into the goodness of Hashem.

Rabbi Miller's grandchildren shared a story about him. One Shabbat, he asked them, "What is the purpose of Shabbat? What are we supposed to be doing?" One grandchild answered, "Learn Torah." Another said, "Sing zmirot." A third said, "Have kavanah in tefillah." Rabbi Miller replied, "No. Tov l'hodot l'Hashem—the primary purpose of Shabbat is to thank Hashem."

This is why we eat delicious food and experience Oneg Shabbat. By enjoying good food, we internalize that the very purpose of Hakadosh Baruch Hu creating the world was to bestow goodness, delight, and happiness upon us.

As the Mesillat Yesharim opens, the ultimate purpose of creation is l'hit'aneg al Hashem—to delight in Hashem. While the ultimate realization of this is the oneg of Olam HaBa, Hashem wants us to experience joy at every step of the journey. On Shabbat, which is me'ein Olam HaBa (a taste of the World to Come), we have a specific mitzvah to experience this delight.

According to the Rashbam, the source for Kiddush b'makom se'udah (reciting Kiddush where the meal is eaten) is the verse V'karata l'shabbat oneg. V'karata ("and you shall call/proclaim") refers to Kiddush. Where do we proclaim it? In a place of oneg—where there is delicious food. That is the se'udah. Therefore, the proclamation of Shabbat must be directly linked to physical enjoyment. The biblical mitzvah of Zachor is fulfilled through Kiddush; while wine is a rabbinic requirement, the core objective is linking the sanctification of Shabbat to delight.

What is the deeper message here? Once we realize that Hashem created pleasant things for our enjoyment, we take the next logical step: if His ultimate goal is our pleasure, then the way He runs our lives must also be entirely for our good. He does not want us to be miserable; the existence of all this good proves it. If there are times when we don't understand what He is doing, it simply means our perception is limited.

There is a beautiful explanation of the verse Ki simachtani Hashem b'fo'olecha: "You have made me rejoice, Hashem, through Your deeds." This refers to creation—the ice cream, the chocolate, the majestic mountains, the animals, everything He made. The verse continues, B'ma'aseh yadecha aranen: "I will sing for joy at the works of Your hands." This refers to His providence—the way He interacts with people. Because I see the goodness in what You created, I can trust and rejoice in how You guide my life.

Mah gadlu ma'asecha Hashem—How great are Your works, Hashem! The challenge is Me'od amku machsh'votecha—Your thoughts are exceedingly deep.

As we sing in Lecha Dodi, Sof ma'aseh b'machashava techilah—the end of the action is rooted in the initial thought. This phrase refers directly to Shabbat, which was planned before creation began. In the exact same way, everything Hashem orchestrates in history and in our personal lives begins with a deep, master plan.

The problem is that Ish ba'ar lo yeida, u'chsil lo yavin et zot—a boorish person cannot know, and a fool cannot understand "this."

Why does it say et zot ("this")? A classic parable explains: A young child is invited into an airplane cockpit. The pilot kindly shows him the instrument panels, pointing out hundreds of intricate dials, levers, and screens. The child points to a single red button and asks, "What's that? Why is that there?" In other words: you understand nothing of how the rest of the plane flies, yet "this" single button is your grand question?

We see this same concept in the Passover Haggadah, where the Tam (simple son) asks, Mah zot? ("What is this?"). In the Torah, this question appears regarding the redemption of a firstborn donkey (peter chamor), where a person is taken aback by an unusual commandment. Everything else was acceptable to him until he hit this one detail.

In Mizmor Shir L'Yom HaShabbat, what is the "this" that confuses people?

Bifro'ach resha'im k'mo esev—when the wicked sprout quickly like grass. What is their ultimate end? L'hishamdam adei ad—to be destroyed forever. Grass grows rapidly, but it is quickly mowed down. Conversely, Tzaddik katamar yifrach—the righteous flourish like a palm tree. A date palm takes years to mature before yielding sweet fruit. In the interim, when we look at the world, we struggle to understand what is happening.

We do not always grasp how Ki hinei oyvecha Hashem, ki hinei oyvecha yoveidu—all Your enemies will ultimately perish. But we will endure. Israel survives every hardship, until the culmination when we will declare, L'hagid ki yashar Hashem—to proclaim that Hashem is just and upright, and that everything made complete sense all along.

This is the central purpose of Oneg Shabbat: to recognize how much goodness Hashem created for us, and to know that His guidance of the world is equally benevolent.

Rav Mattisyahu Salomon quotes a powerful insight from Rav Elyah Lopian: A traveler comes across a magnificent estate. Outside sits a breathtaking garden, filled with vibrant flowers, fruit trees, and pristine landscaping. He thinks, "If the outside garden is this glorious, imagine the magnificence inside the palace!" He enters the palace, only to find the entire interior gutted, with rubble and scaffolding everywhere. Confused, he realizes: the master is remodeling. The gutted interior isn't destruction; it is the preparation for a much grander structure, and the well-tended garden outside is the absolute proof that an attentive owner is in charge.

The nimshal (lesson) is clear: We look around at nature and see an exquisite world—the "garden." Then we look at world events—wars, rogue nations, terror, and hester panim (the concealment of God's face)—and the world seems chaotic and gutted. What is happening? The Owner is rebuilding history toward the ultimate redemption.

This explains why in Aleinu we state, Hu Elokeinu ein od, emet Malkeinu ("He is our God, there is no other; true is our King"), and immediately follow with Al ken nekaveh l'cha Hashem Elokeinu ("Therefore we put our hope in You, Hashem, to soon see Your glory"). What is the link between proclaiming His absolute sovereignty and our hope for the future? When we recognize that Hashem is the Master running the entire world, we can anticipate the future with complete confidence. We eagerly look forward to the day when wickedness is eradicated and the beauty of the complete plan is revealed.

This connects directly to Rosh Hashanah, where Aleinu serves as the core introduction to Malchuyot (the blessing of His Kingship). This is also why our Sages taught that the essential themes of Rosh Hashanah are contained within Shabbat: the recognition that even when the world appears in disarray, Hashem remains the King in full control.

We might not see the King directly, but we see His garden. Metaphorically, we appreciate that garden on Shabbat through our oneg. When we partake in the Shabbat delights, we remind ourselves: "If this is the goodness He created for us, imagine how masterfully and lovingly He is guiding our lives."

Have a wonderful, peaceful Shabbat Shalom!